THE STORY of SIGURD (Also Known As Siegfried)
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THE STORY OF SIGURD (also known as Siegfried) [This is a very old story: the Danes who used to fight with the English in King Alfred’s time knew this story. They have carved on the rocks pictures of some of the things that happen in the tale, and those carvings may still be seen. Because it is so old and so beautiful the story is 5 told here again, but it has a sad ending -- indeed it is all sad, and all about fighting and killing, as might be expected from the Danes.] Once upon a time there was a King in the North who had won many wars, but now he was old. Yet he took a new wife, and then another Prince, who wanted to have 10 married her, came up against him with a great army. The old King went out and fought bravely, but at last his sword broke, and he was wounded and his men fled. But in the night, when the battle was over, his young wife came out and searched for him among the slain, and at last she found him, and asked whether he might be healed. But he said “No,” his luck was gone, his sword was broken, and he must die. And he told her 15 that she would have a son, and that son would be a great warrior, and would avenge him on the other King, his enemy. And he bade her keep the broken pieces of the sword, to make a new sword for his son, and that blade should be called Gram. Then he died. And his wife called her maid to her and said, “Let us change clothes, and you shall be called by my name, and I by yours, lest the enemy finds us.” 20 So this was done, and they hid in a wood, but there some strangers met them and carried them off in a ship to Denmark. And when they were brought before the King, he thought the maid looked like a Queen, and the Queen like a maid. So he asked the Queen, “How do you know in the dark of night whether the hours are wearing to the morning?” 25 And she said: “I know because, when I was younger, I used to have to rise and light the fires, and still I waken at the same time.” “A strange Queen to light the fires,” thought the King. Then he asked the Queen, who was dressed like a maid, “How do you know in 30 the dark of night whether the hours are wearing near the dawn?” “My father gave me a gold ring,” said she, “and always, ere the dawning, it grows cold on my finger.” “A rich house where the maids wore gold,” said the King. “Truly you are no maid, but a King’s daughter.” 35 So he treated her royally, and as time went on she had a son called Sigurd, a beautiful boy and very strong. He had a tutor to be with him, and once the tutor bade him go to the King and ask for a horse. “Choose a horse for yourself,” said the King; and Sigurd went to the wood, and there he met an old man with a white beard, and said, “Come! help me in horse- 40 choosing.” Then the old man said, “Drive all the horses into the river, and choose the one that swims across.” So Sigurd drove them, and only one swam across. Sigurd chose him: his name was Grani, and he came of Sleipnir’s breed, and was the best horse in the world. For 45 Sleipnir was the horse of Odin, the God of the North, and was as swift as the wind. But a day or two later his tutor said to Sigurd, “There is a great treasure of gold hidden not far from here, and it would become you to win it.” But Sigurd answered, “I have heard stories of that treasure, and I know that the dragon Fafnir guards it, and he is so huge and wicked that no man dares to go near 50 him.” “He is no bigger than other dragons,” said the tutor, “and if you were as brave as your father you would not fear him.” “I am no coward,” says Sigurd; “why do you want me to fight with this dragon?” Then his tutor, whose name was Regin, told him that all this great hoard of red 55 gold had once belonged to his own father. And his father had three sons -- the first was Fafnir, the Dragon; the next was Otter, who could put on the shape of an otter when he liked; and the next was himself, Regin, and he was a great smith and maker of swords. 60 Otter’s Ransom Winter had lost its heart. Every day the stallions Arvak and Alsvid rose earlier to haul the Sun’s chariot across the sky, and quietly the snow pulled back from the valleys and plains of Midgard. Small 65 choirs of birds sang and Odin, Loki and Honir were eager to leave Asgard and resume their exploration of the worlds. Early one morning the three gods crossed Bifrost. Talking and laughing they headed into Midgard, and Odin and Loki had to stretch their legs to keep up with swift Honir. 70 Suddenly a late snowstorm assaulted the travelers. They shrugged their way through thick wet flakes that tangled and danced and spun and flew in every direction till that wild onslaught ended as abruptly as it had begun; the sun boomed through layers of shapeless cloud, filling it with fierce yellow light; and then there was only the orb 75 of the sun, the expanding acres of pale blue sky, and the blue and green levels of open Midgard. The three gods followed the course of a river towards its head. And in the afternoon, they walked up under a waterfall. They strode into the thunder, through the spray-diamonds, and stared into the 80 maelstrom. Then Odin spotted an otter stretched out on the scraggy bank not fifty paces from them; he pointed it out to Loki and Honir. The otter’s eyes were shut. Feeling blessed and rather drowsy in the afternoon sun, it had just begun to eat a salmon it had caught in the 85 waterfall. Loki pursed his lips. He bent down and picked up a fist-sized stone, took aim, and threw it as hard as he could at the otter. The stone hit the animal on the head and killed it outright. “Well, then,” shouted Loki, struggling back to Odin and Honir 90 with the salmon under one arm and the limp otter under the other, “what do you say to that? Two for the price of one?” The three companions were all equally delighted: Loki at his prowess, and Odin and Honir at the prospect of a good meal that evening. They climbed up the steep bank beside the waterfall and 95 continued on their way up the narrowing river valley. The sun had already been drawn out of sight, and it was half- way to dark when the gods saw a farm only a little way ahead of them. Smoke lifted from its chimney. They quickened their step and gave thanks for their good fortune. 100 “Can you give us lodgings for the night?” Odin asked the farmer Hreidmar. “We've no wish for a dew-bed.” “How many are you?” said Hreidmar. “There are two others outside,” Odin replied. “And we can pay for our beds with food. We were in luck today and there’s enough for 105 everyone.” “For my sons as well?” said Hreidmar. “For Fafnir and Regin? And for my daughters Lyngheid and Lofnheid?” “Enough for everyone,” said Odin airily. Then Hreidmar nodded without much enthusiasm, and Odin 110 went to the door and called to Loki and Honir. “Here we are,” said Honir. “And here’s our supper,” said Loki cheerfully. “I bagged them both with one stone.” When Hreidmar saw the otter draped under his nose, he 115 stiffened. For a moment his eyes glazed; then he turned and walked out of the room. “What’s wrong with him?” said Loki. Odin shrugged. “A cool welcome is better than a cold night,” he said. 120 “I'm not so sure,” said Honir. “No,” Odin replied. “You never are!” Hreidmar walked down the low passage, punching the turf walls, and found Fafnir and Regin. “What do you think?” he said. “Your brother Otter is dead.” 125 “Dead?” exclaimed the brothers, leaping up. “Dead. And what else do you think? His murderers are our guests for the night.” Fafnir and Regin were outraged and swore to avenge Otter’s death. “There are three of them and three of us,” said Hreidmar, ‘so 130 we’ll have to surprise them. Each of us must take one when I give the nod. One has rather a fine spear and might be better off without it; and one has strange shoes and could be better off barefoot; I see nothing harmful about the third. I’ll use my magic - I’ll chant spells to weaken them. I’ll sing a charm to bind them.” Fafnir and Regin did just 135 as their father said. The three of them leaped on to their visitors, and the farmer-magician Hreidmar weakened their resistance so that Odin lost his spear Gungnir, and Loki was relieved of his sky-shoes. When the three gods lay on the ground, bound hand and foot, Hreidmar shouted, “My son, you’ve killed my son.